


We Are All Mortal Until the First Kiss (And The Second Glass of Wine)

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Almost Kiss, Ancient Rome, Angst, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fallen Angel Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Garden of Eden, Holy Water, Lower Tadfield (Good Omens), M/M, Nightmares, Pining, Scene: The Bookshop Fire (Good Omens), The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: A little tale of the five times Aziraphale and Crowley almost kissed, and then their actual first kiss.The title is a quote from Eduardo Galeano I believe





	1. Prologue

Her watchful eyes haven’t come away from the pair since they stopped Armageddon, it was roughly a year ago, but in the general scheme of things that’s like a minute passing for Her. She isn’t annoyed, she isn’t angry. _ She’s happy; proud_. They followed through with the ineffable plan, while attempting to stop it. _ That’s right, the ineffable plan was stopping Armageddon and the angel and demon falling in love. _ Focusing her eyes down to the South of England, she looks to a house so familiar. _ It’s like watching Her favourite romantic movie _ _ – _ _ it feels like home to her, she will never tire of watching them like this. _

  
Aziraphale is relaxing in his large armchair, the fire in the hearth is roaring away. The arms of the chair are worn down from the constant use; Crowley is curled up on top of the chair, hissing softly every so often as he sleeps. Aziraphale smiles slightly as he looks up at his demon, sipping his tea before placing the saucer on the table. He opens the newest book he’s bought, but he isn’t focusing on it. His mind is drifting to the times that he almost kissed Crowley, before they were fully open in their love for each other, and their first kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

They have met in a time long before this one, when Crowley wasn’t the way he is now, when he wasn’t _ this _. He was an angel – striking red hair, golden eyes and pale skin. That was then. They’d gotten on amazingly – two angels in the Garden under Her omniscient eyes. Those same all-seeing eyes that would later cause and witness his downfall.

Now though, things are different. They will never go back to how they were not so long ago. Crawly slithered through the bushes, back to the angel that had once never left his side. As he appeared by the angel, his leathery snake skin was replaced with human skin and free-flowing black fabric.  
  
“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?” Crawly asked. _Always asking questions, it was what led to his fall from grace, what harm could any more questions do? _He saw the way the angel tried to avoid the question. Aziraphale’s grey eyes shifted to the floor, then up to the pure blue sky, and finally out towards the golden dunes. Just about everywhere except Crawly’s questioning eyes.  
“You did! It was flaming like anything,” Crawly said. Seeing the way the question was making the angel squirm only encouraged him to ask more questions. The angel, in fact, did squirm again. He shook his head, hoping to avoid the question. It didn’t work though, Crawly only questioned more, dug himself into a deeper hole – at least this time the threat of falling would be less impactful.  
“What happened to it?” Crawly asked, lifting his head slightly. The angel didn’t respond again, aside from a little grunt while the angel’s head was shaking.  
“Lost it already, have you?” Crawly asked.  
“Gave it away” Aziraphale mumbled, looking down. He missed the way the demon’s golden eyes widened, in something that appeared to be a combination of disbelief and awe.  
“You what?” He asked, almost rendered speechless by the angel’s words.  
“I gave it away,” Aziraphale admitted, loud enough for the whole garden and God herself to hear. _Surely he will fall for his admission_. Aziraphale turned to look out over the sand dunes, his eyes falling onto the couple who were walking away from the garden, armed only with a flaming sword that _should_ be by his side. He looked back to the demon, but the demon was caught up in his own thoughts.

The demon’s eyes drifted over Aziraphale’s body, from his bare feet pressed against the concrete bricks of the wall, up to the pristine white curls on the angel’s head. Crawly can’t help but stare at the plump, pink lips of the angel. He'd considered it a few times, when he’s watched the angel from a distance. He’s pondered what it would be like to kiss the angel, to grab his waist, pull him close and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow, like there will be no punishment or fallout from the action. He won’t though. Crawly won’t ever do that, he won’t force the angel to fall because of his own lust for the angel, _ who probably doesn’t feel the same_.

_ I wonder if he remembers me. Before my fall, when I was an angel. I loved him. He said he wasn’t sure what he felt, he thought it was love. It was too late - I was already falling from grace. _

Aziraphale looked over to Crawly.  
“There are vicious animals. It's going to be cold out there. And she's expecting already!” He exclaimed.

“And I said, ‘_Here you go. Flaming sword. Don't thank me. And don't let the sun go down on you here,’” _ Aziraphale admitted, entirely unsure of why he’d explain himself to this wily demon. He recognises the demon, like a vague memory of a childhood summer day, it sends a tingle down his spine. He groans slightly, looking back out to the dunes.  
“I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing,” he murmurs.

“Oh, you’re an angel. I don’t think you could do_ the wrong thing, _ ” Crawly smiled. Aziraphale smiled, his anxiety lifting slightly at the demon’s words.  
“ Oh, oh thank you,” He looks to Crawly, finally realising where he knows the fire-haired demon from. _ They were in love. _


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley’s excuse would be that they’re drunk - he can use it and it would mean nothing. He can hide his true feelings once he’s done this - the feelings he’s already had for around 4000 years, since their first meeting in the Garden. Those feelings were only amplified when he heard that the angel had given away his flaming sword for humanity.

Things have changed since then. Heaven - from what Crowley has heard in fleeting conversations with the angel - is run like a military organisation. Crowley is so glad to have escaped when he did, though he does wish he could change how he left - _ escaped is an operative word _.

Hearing tales of Gabriel punishing angels has Crowley cringing. It’s mostly for minor mishaps - sometimes not even inadvertent evil deeds, just small errors in the angelic equivalent of paperwork; Angels have to explain every single thing they do and everyone that they talk to, and if it isn’t accepted, they’re dragged out to a panel of Archangels to explain themselves, and what it is that they have done, the punishment will never fit. It often makes Crowley wonder how Aziraphale explains away their friendship - maybe he doesn’t.

If Crowley dwells on Heaven for too long, he gets upset. He thinks about his fall, the agony of his wings being burnt down to the skin, the bone and cartilage being ripped from his shoulder blades. He remembers the look in Aziraphale’s eyes as he was dragged away, the pained look in the angel’s eyes is one that will forever be burned into Crowley’s mind, it hurts almost as much as the lingering pain of where his wings once comfortably sat. His wings are black now, charred from the fall. They’ve been black for as long as he can remember. He blocks out the time when they were white.

Hell is, well, Hell. It’s crowded, it’s dark, it’s dingy. It’s everything Crowley hates. Yet, it’s weirdly calm, _ laid back. _ The opposite of Heaven, from what he’s heard. And that's why he likes it more than anything else. He can be himself, or herself, and not get judged anything like when he was an Angel.

Being a demon on Earth, much like being an angel on Earth, provides a sense of serenity that Crowley hasn’t experienced before. When he was an angel in Heaven, for the short time he was, he was terrified at every action he had undertaken, and the possible reactions to it. In Hell, he gets overwhelmed so quickly by the crowds and the volume that Earth is just the right place for him to remain comfortable.

“What do you say to some oysters?” Aziraphale asks, looking to Crowley. The angel’s voice drags the demon from his thoughts, saving him from falling into depression like he fell from Heaven. Crowley nods, drinking the remainder of his wine.

They’re sitting opposite each other. Aziraphale is telling a story, something about a minor miracle he did for a kid. Crowley is only half listening, too caught up in his own thoughts. Aziraphale hasn’t noticed this, and Crowley is grateful. He doesn’t want to have to explain to the angel that the reason Crowley is only half responding is because he wants to climb over the table, sit in the angel’s lap and kiss him senseless, for everyone to see in Heaven and Hell alike. He knows he _ can’t _ . Their punishments would be awful, there has never been a tale of an angel and a demon falling in lo- _ kissing _ . Crowley corrects the thought in his mind. _ The angel won’t love me now, or ever. _


	4. Chapter 4

The rubble of the church settled around them. The Nazis are dead. The angel is safe. Crowley’s eyes have taken in the statue behind Aziraphale. The angel is staring at the books in his hand in complete disbelief. He looks over to Crowley, who is putting his sunglasses back on. It’s taking all of Aziraphale’s might to not go over, grab the demon by his jacket and kiss him senseless.

Aziraphale almost choked on his tongue, wanting to get something out before the demon left the church. He couldn’t say anything though, nothing would come out. Instead he watched as Crowley walked away, his heart breaking.

Aziraphale remained standing for a long time, in the shattered remains of a church, his heart breaking in his chest. He looked on to where the demon had stood, only a few hours earlier, cursing himself.  
“I should’ve told you I love you. I should’ve kissed you” Aziraphale mumbled to himself. He made his way out of the remains of the church, and back to the bookshop with his books in hand.

The next time Aziraphale saw Crowley, he had heard of the demon’s plan to steal some Holy Water. He sat in Crowley’s car, shifting uncomfortably. The demon sat beside him, messing with his hair. Aziraphale longs to brush his fingers through the demon’s hair, to tug on it and hear the demon’s whimpers. It doesn’t take the angel to be having some seriously unholy thoughts.

“You told me what you think 105 years ago” Crowley growled.   
“And I haven’t changed my mind, but I can’t have you risking your life. Not even for something dangerous… so you can call off the robbery” Aziraphale murmured. With shaky hands, he lifted up the tartan flask and rested it in Crowley’s hands. For a brief instance, he’s tempted to take it back; to take Crowley and cuddle with him until he gets the ridiculous notion out of his head. _Who knew that it would be needed less than 100 years later. _  
“It’s the real thing?” Crowley asks, though he knows Aziraphale wouldn’t give him anything less – regardless of what he actually thinks.  
“The holiest” Aziraphale mumbles, looking to his lap.  
“After everything you said… should I say thank you?” Crowley asks.  
“Better not” Aziraphale responds.  
“Well, can I drop you anywhere?” Crowley asks, his eyes are lingering on the flask in his hand and what feels like an irreparable split in his friendship with Aziraphale.

“No, thank you” Aziraphale responds. When he looks up, his heart sinks. Crowley looks as though someone has kicked a puppy, smashed all of the wine and… hurt Aziraphale.  
“Oh don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could…I don’t know, go for a picnic? Dine at the Ritz?” Aziraphale knows he’s throwing out useless lines.  
“I’ll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go” Crowley offers his own olive branch.  
“You go too fast for me, Crowley” Aziraphale responds.

In the black Bentley, on the streets of London, two hearts are simultaneously breaking, aching and longing for the other.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale felt the wall hit his back, an almost audible thud. He felt Crowley’s breath against his lips. The demon was so close, close enough that Aziraphale could almost hear every thought in the demon’s head. _ He wishes he could _ . Aziraphale’s eyes lingered on Crowley’s lips, not even listening to a word the demon hissed out. Aziraphale knows he could do _ it _ now. He could lean forward, he could press their lips together and take the leap that he’s wanted to for thousands of years. He could take that step and, for once, be confident in his actions. He rakes his eyes up to the demon’s eyes, hidden by sunglasses as they so often are. _ Sometimes Aziraphale wishes he could stare longingly into Crowley’s golden eyes for eternity and longer. For now though, he knows he can’t do that. He has books to read! And Heaven would be sure to pick up on it. _

Aziraphale rakes his eyes down to Crowley’s lips, he’s tempted to push forward, to kiss the demon and_ finally _take that step. Before he can, someone disturbs the moment.  
  
“Excuse me gentlemen,” A soft voice says.  
“Sorry to break up an… intimate moment. Can I help you?” She asks. Crowley groans, looking over. He completely misses the forlorn look on the angel’s face as his chance is removed from him.  
“You” Crowley states while snapping his fingers.  
“Saints and demons preserve us, it’s Master Crowley,” She said, going stock straight.  
“You didn’t have to do that” Aziraphale sighs, adjusting his clothing.  
“You could’ve just asked her,” He adds.  
“Oh of course, of course,” Crowley responds, immediately sarcastic.  
“No yeah _ Excuse me, ma’am, we’re two supernatural entities just looking for the notorious Son of Satan. Wonder if you might help us with our enquiries?” _ Crowley hissed. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.  
You weren’t by any chance, a nun here at this convent 11 years ago, were you?” Aziraphale asked.

“I was” She responded, showing no emotion.  
“Luck of the devil” Aziraphale mumbled, smirking to Crowley.  
“What happened to the baby I gave you?” Crowley asked.  
“I swapped him with the son of the American ambassador. Such a nice man. He used to be ambassador to Swindon” She said. Aziraphale and Crowley nodded. 

“Then Sister Theresa Garrulous came and took the other baby way” She added.  
“This American ambassador, what was his name? Where did he come from, and what did he do with the baby?” Crowley asked.  
“I don’t know” Mary responded.  
“Records! There must have been records” Crowley suddenly exclaimed.  
“Oh yes, there were lots of records. We were very good at keeping records” Mary responded.  
“Well, where are they?” Crowley asked.  
“Burned in the fire” Mary responded, immediately causing Crowley to groan out Hastur’s name. 

“Well, is there anything you remember about the baby?” Crowley asked.  
“He had lovely little toesie-woesies” Mary responded. Aziraphale smiled softly, a small look to Crowley, who looked more and more infuriated.  
“Let's go, angel” He said, while walking away from the angel.   
“You will wake, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best,” Aziraphale said to Mary, while snapping his fingers. 

While Aziraphale caught up to the demon, he couldn’t help but curse that_ damned _woman. He was finally ready to make the step, to kiss Crowley once and for all, and then she came along and ruined the entire moment. Aziraphale can’t get it out of his head, the feeling of Crowley’s lips almost brushing against his own, the demon’s warm breath hitting his face. Aziraphale knows it then, for sure, he’s going to fall, and not just in love.


	6. Chapter 6

Aziraphale looks to the situation around him– this could be the last time he and Crowley are alive. He can’t, _won’t_ let Crowley die without knowing how Aziraphale feels about him. Adam and The Them are facing the Four Horse – People.  
“Right, well that was that” Crowley groans, turning to face Aziraphale.  
“It was nice knowing you,” He says. _I love you_ he wanted to say.  
“We can’t give up now” Aziraphale wanted to say so many words to Crowley, he had so much left unsaid.  
“This is Satan himself! This isn’t about Armageddon, this is _personal_” Crowley hisses.  
“We are _fucked” _Crowley growls.   
  
As the ground beneath them quakes, and Crowley falls to the floor, Aziraphale knows what he needs to say, he doesn’t want to say it, but he knows he needs to.  
“Come up with something or…” Aziraphale trails off, wielding his sword behind him. Aziraphale feels his heart breaks as the words leave his mouth. It’s an empty threat through and through, but the thought of not having Crowley in his life is as bad for him as hellfire for any angel.  
“Or I’ll never talk to you again.”

In the blink of an eye, Aziraphale finds himself, Adam and Crowley evacuated from the situation. He and Crowley both let out a simultaneously sigh of relief, their wings spreading out behind them. Adam looks _petrified_ as he looks between the pair.  
“Adam, listen. Your father is coming to destroy you, probably to destroy all of us” Crowley says, though he is taken aback at the look Aziraphale is giving him. _Maybe it was a little too much. _  
“My dad?” Adam asks.  
“He wouldn’t hurt anybody” He adds, clearly incredibly confused.  
“Not your Earthly father – Satan” Crowley explains.  
“Your father who is no longer in heaven” He muses, though the looks that Adam and Aziraphale give him make him cover the small smile.  
“He is coming and he is angry.”  
  
“So what do you want me to do about it? Fight him?” Adam asks, his voice wavering slightly. He is terrified.  
“I don’t think fighting him would do any good. You’re going to have to come up with something else” Crowley admits, though his eyes are lingering on Aziraphale as he talks.  
“But I’m just a kid!” Adam cries out. Before Crowley can respond with “You’re the son of Satan” Aziraphale is intervening.  
“But that’s not a bad thing to be, Adam. You know, I was scared. Scared that you’d be Hell incarnate” Aziraphale admits.  
“I hoped you’d be Heaven incarnate. But you’re not either of those things” Aziraphale continues. His eyes flick to Crowley, who looks slightly taken aback by Aziraphale’s words.  
“You’re much better… You’re human incarnate” Aziraphale explains. Crowley felt his heart soften slightly at the way Aziraphale was so…caring for a child that he was prepared to shoot not so long ago.  
“Adam, reality will listen to you right now. You can change things” Crowley spoke with a brutal honesty.   
“And whatever happens, for good or for evil, we’re beside you” Aziraphale promises, while both he and Crowley take a hold of Adam’s hands.  
“I’m going to start time, you won’t have time to do whatever you’re going to do” Crowley spoke, while changing his stance. He wielded the car part while Aziraphale wielded the flaming sword, mirroring his position.

Tadfield Airbase was an unwelcome sight to grey and golden eyes alike. The ground crumbled like a cookie as Satan burst through the layers of Earth, disturbing the Tibetan Monks. _So that’s __what Satan looks like.  
_“Where is my son? You? You’re my rebellious son? Come here” Satan’s voice boomed out over Earth. With shaky steps, Adam moved forward. Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand, possibly out of fear but possibly because it’s the last time they might be alive – Crowley isn’t entirely sure.  
“You’re not my dad” Adam called out. His voice was quiet, yet the words he spoke were as powerful as the loudest voices. Crowley shared a look with Aziraphale – a look filled with confusion.  
“Dads don’t wait until you’re 11 to say hello and then turn up to tell you off” Adam shouted. A look of realisation covered Crowley’s face as he realises what Adam is doing.  
“What?” Satan looked taken aback as his son let out his teenage angst early. The ground rumbled and groaned as Adam continued with what he was saying, it seemed to be successful.   
“If I’m in trouble with my dad then it won't be you. It's going to be the dad who was there. You're not my dad” Adam shouted.  
“What did you say?” Satan exclaimed.  
“You can do it. Say it, Adam. Say it again!” Crowley shouted his words of encouragement.  
“Come here!” Satan ordered. 

“You’re not my dad…You never were” Adam shouted. Satan began to collapse in front of them, prompting Adam to take a step back.  
“No. No, no, no, no, no, no! No!” Satan cried out as he burnt away. Through the smoke, a maroon car could be heard spluttering along. Moments later, it appeared, once the smoke had faded.

“Adam? Adam?!” A man shouted as he emerged from the car.  
“That’s not…really his father?” Aziraphale said, watching the man making his way towards the group. The father could be overheard speaking as Crowley turned to face him.  
“Oh for Heaven’s sake. Where is he?” Mr Young asked, though Aziraphale wasn’t fully focussing on him, he was focused on Crowley.  
“It is. It is now, and it always was. He did it” Crowley smiled. A smile covered Aziraphale’s face, Crowley felt a warmth bloom inside of him at the angel’s smile. Crowley’s still on his high, he could easily grab the angel by the lapels of his coat, pull him close and kiss him senseless – though Crowley could do that regardless of his mood.


	7. Chapter 7

Sitting on the bench in Tadfield after all is said and done for now, Aziraphale finally feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest, even if only for a short time. The moon is shining onto the rain-soaked concrete beneath the village. The sound of a bus breaks the silence of the village at the late hour.  
“ I suppose I better get him to drop me off at the bookshop” Aziraphale stated, watching as Crowley put his arm out for the bus.  
“Oh uh…it burned down, remember? You can stay at my place if you’d like,” Crowley offered. Aziraphale looked down as the realization hit him. Crowley couldn’t help but feel his heart break at the sadness covering Aziraphale’s face. 

“I don’t think my side would like that,” Aziraphale admitted, fiddling with his hands.  
“ You don’t have a side anymore, angel,” Crowley murmured, shifting to sit closer to the angel. He rested his arm over the back of the bench, watching as the angel shifted to sit under Crowley’s arm.  
“ Neither of us do…We’re on our own side,” Crowley said softly. He rested his hand close to Aziraphale’s, which had migrated onto the black denim covering Crowley’s leg. The angel nodded, shifting to take Crowley’s hand in his own. Crowley smiled, watching as the bus stopped in front of them and the bench. They climbed on, Aziraphale waiting to pay the driver. He moved to sit beside Crowley, taking the demon’s hand in his own. 

While they made the journey back to London, Crowley rested his head against the window. Aziraphale looked over and smiled slightly. After a particularly harsh bump in the road that had Crowley’s head hitting the window with a _ thud_, Aziraphale reached over and lifted Crowley’s head. He pulled the demon close, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Crowley smiled, his eyes drifting shut.

When they got back to Crowley’s flat, Aziraphale sent a promise to the bus driver that he would be in no trouble, a minor miracle making the bus driver’s boss believe that the bus had been helping people caught up in the fires and chaos of what, for mortals, had been an incredibly odd day. They made their way into the block of flats, standing in the lift. Aziraphale watched as Crowley leaned against the wall, yawning slightly as they made their way to the top floor.

“I will sleep on the sofa,” Aziraphale stated, looking around.  
“Don’t have one,” Crowley mumbled while removing his jacket. He hung it up, before turning on the spot for a moment.  
“Bed’s through there,” he explained, pointing behind him. Aziraphale nodded and followed awkwardly. Crowley stripped to his underwear, climbing into the bed. Aziraphale shifted awkwardly for a moment before changing to his vest and underwear. He looked over to Crowley, who was laid in the bed, an arm slung behind his head. He watched with half-lidded eyes as Aziraphale climbed into the bed and curled close to him.  
“It’s been a long day, Crowley, get some sleep,” Aziraphale said softly, watching as Crowley shifted in the bed, while the light flicked off. 

The moon was shining through a small gap in the curtains, it shone over the two bodies that were curled close together. Aziraphale wasn’t fully asleep - he wasn’t fully awake either though. Crowley was asleep, making some grunting noises, though Aziraphale couldn’t hear them.  
“Zira ,” he mumbled, thrashing on the bed. Sweat was soaking his skin, droplets rolling onto the duvet. A few more unintelligible sounds could be heard.  
“Angel !” Crowley shouted, thrashing more wildly. Aziraphale immediately awoke, concern filling his chest.  
“Crowley,” he said softly, while sitting up. He stroked his fingers over the demon’s skin, while attempting to wake the demon. He called out for the demon a few more times, shaking the demon who eventually awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright.  
“Aziraphale ,” he breathed, while looking around the room. A few moments passed where the only noise was him panting.  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured. He looked over to the demon, stroking his finger over the demon’s hand.  
“You’re okay,” Crowley murmured, his sweat-soaked hand taking Aziraphale’s hand in his own.  
“I’m okay, Crowley,” Aziraphale promised. He gently massaged the demon’s hand, attempting to calm the demon.  
“What was it, Crowley?” He asked, looking over to the demon.  
“You uh…” Crowley sighed. _ He can’t get the sight out of his mind, flames at every turn, _ _ smoke burning at his throat__. Books burning, there’s no sign of the angel. Crowley can’t find the angel, it’s killing him. _   
“Crowley,” Aziraphale prompted, shifting to hold the demon.  
“The fire. You weren't there, I couldn’t find you anywhere…I thought you were…I thought…” A sob left Crowley’s mouth, his head was resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder as tears streamed down his cheeks.  
“It’s okay dear, I’m here…” Aziraphale promised, while he stroked his fingers through the demon’s sleep - flattened hair. He hoped it would calm the demon slightly, though he didn’t know whether it was working or how effective it was. 

Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheeks gently, lifting the demon’s head. Golden eyes met grey ones. The angel could see the layers of unshed tears filling the demon’s eyes.  
“I’m here Crowley, I promise you I’m never leaving,” Aziraphale promised. He lifted his hand to brush away Crowley’s tears. Crowley leaned into the touch, as though he’d been deprived of contact for millennia - the angel doesn’t know that Crowley _has _been deprived of any touch for so many years. Crowley took a shuddery breath, a wine glass appearing his hand filled with the finest Malbec – though it was emptied quickly. Aziraphale smiled slightly, making the empty glass vanish. Reaching up, Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s cheek. He saw the fear in Crowley’s eyes.   
“Angel… please don’t leave. When morning comes, and the storm has passed, come back to me… please,” he begged.  
“I will always come back for you, Crowley, no matter what happens. No matter who we become and where we end up. I’ll find you Crowley” He promises. A small smile graces Crowley’s face, a small that reaches his eyes. Crowley inhales slightly, and then, he leans forward and kisses Aziraphale gently. Aziraphale’s hand shifts into Crowley’s hair as the kiss deepens, the pair finally feeling comfortable enough to take this step without risking the wrath of Her.   
  
They don’t separate for a long time, thanking Her for their lack of need to breathe. Eventually do separate though, the angel prompting their separation. The wine glasses on the table beside the bed refill – a miracle from Aziraphale.   
“Crowley, it’s us against the world,” he promises, taking the demon’s hand in his own. Crowley nods, looking more calm than he had done a while earlier.  
“Stay?” Crowley murmured. He reached over to grab the glass of wine that was still on the table beside the bed. He drank it in one mouthful, while Aziraphale sipped at his.   
“You don’t need to ask, dear. I will always stay with you” Aziraphale promised. He shifted, curling under the duvet with Crowley, who felt slightly more calm, even if only for one night.


	8. Epilogue

Aziraphale shifted slightly, closing his book. He looked up to Crowley, the demon’s eye peeked open slightly. Aziraphale smiled softly in response.  
“I love you, Crowley, so very much” He murmured, stroking his fingers over the demon’s scaly skin. Crowley hissed happily, his tongue sliding out to press against Aziraphale’s cheek in a soft kiss.  
“I think we should go off to bed, dear,” Aziraphale stated while drinking his tea. Crowley nodded, while shifting back into his human form. Aziraphale smiled widely, Crowley moving to hug him tightly. A few moments passed while they hugged - unwilling to separate after so many years of their love being forbidden, it’s a weight off of their shoulders that they’re able to be this open with each other, even if it has taken many nights of insecurities being bared open to get to this stage – and there’s still work that needs to be done, but it can wait, for now they’re too caught up in each other’s embrace. Eventually they do come apart, though their hands remain intertwined as they made their way towards the bedroom, finally comfortable in their relationship, and finally able to share a kiss without judgement from their long – time homes and the beliefs that they both forced to have.


End file.
